Adventures with the Elderly

I may have an unrealistic perspective of how likable I am. I feel like in general I am at least tolerated by most people with no respect to age, race, or gender. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that most people would want to be strapped in next to me on a 20 hour road trip, but I also don't think most people cringe at the thought of eye contact or a brief conversation with me. This is true for most everyone except the 87 yr + crowd.

For some reason the advanced-age elderly hate me and I have some theories as to why. It could be because I'm incredibly awkward around that particular demographic. All of a sudden as soon as I step into a care home I forget what to do with my hands and how to talk to humans. I then start this awkward high pitched baby talk that is over-accomidating and extremely inappropriate for someone with 60 years of life experience on me. Because it sounds like I'm talking to a toddler it is, understandably, extremely patronizing.

This anxiety was born years ago when we would go caroling at the care home at Christmas time with my 4-H club (yup 4-H club... that will be another post for another day). We went into one ladies room to spread christmas cheer and she said to my little brother "You look very handsome" and then turned to me and said "You look well fed," and thus my old person anxiety began.

After a few more traumatic caroling incidences in the following years I agreed to go to the care home with puppies from the humane society to share the joy of puppies with the elderly. I figured this was a fool-proof plan because even if the old people didn't like me, I would be hiding behind the peace-offering of an 8 wk old puppy. Of coarse these desired results were not what I experienced. The very first wheelchair I approached held a lady that screamed so loud that I about needed to borrow one of their adult diapers. I like to think it was because she had an irrational fear of adorable puppies, but in my heart I know that the screaming didn't start until we made eye contact, and so continued my strained relationship with the old.

So Monday when I found out we were going to a care home to play bingo, a twinge of fear bubbled up to the surface. I brushed the fear aside thinking that "I am an adult now," "I can talk to other adults even if they are more advanced in age". So confidently I sat down by an elderly lady to play.

I should have known. She clearly had the ability to talk, but she would not talk to me. She just stole an extra bingo card and got her game face on while I asked her questions like "where are you from?" "tell me about your family." Each of these questions were met with a scowl. When we started playing she let me help her locate the numbers (she was keeping tabs on 3 cards because she had already screamed at me when I tried to give one of her cards to a lady that didn't have one). As the minutes went by my voice got continually higher and increasingly condescending.

"Did they call G60?"
"No"
"YOU FORGOT TO COVER G60"
(high singsongy voice): "They haven't called it, but I can't wait until they call another number you are so close to winning girl"... (she was nowhere close to winning and she knew that, and she was also not 5 years old).

She then began blatantly blaming me when other people won... she almost hit the lady next to her that won and then she thought better of it and instead projected her hatred onto me. She scowled at me and mumbled incoherent words about how bad I was at bingo.

She never won, but at the end to get us all back for her lack of bingo success she tried to shove her stolen bingo card into the back of her wheel chair. When I tried to sneak it out of her wheel chair she caught me and slapped me.

I was the only person that got hit by their old person that day.